Email this to a friend

*Certain members of the fraternity exec board, the President, Vice president, Treasurer, Social Chair, sit in the chapter room in shameful silence.*

President: (sighs) I guess I’ll start. We’ve got a real mess here, and we need to sort it out so we can all get our stories straight and lie our way out of this, as a team, as brothers. So, during Greek Week courting, who promised what to whom in which sororities? What incentives were involved? And how illegal were those incentives?

Vice President: Maybe you should admit to your own sins first.

President: What? Me? All I ever offered the Nu Chis was a good time.

Vice President: Yeah, right. A good time. A good time at the expense of OUR DICKS!

President: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Vice President: I know for a fact you told Nu Chi’s president that if they preffed us first you could ensure that thirty, THIRTY, of their girls would have dates to our formal. Have you forgotten what Nu Chis look like?!? They’re a Goddamn train wreck. And I mean that literally. They look like victims pulled from the wreckage of an actual derailed train.

President: (rolls eyes) Okay…

Vice President: A train that was hauling cattle! They look like cattle maimed in a high speed accident!

President: We get it!

Vice President: And for what? Because their president is somehow, inexplicably hot? You were gonna sell us all down the river to, what? Get near her and cross another house off your list?

President: I got one semester left to complete the Sorority Grand Slam and I ain’t goin’ dumpster diving to do it! I win with dignity dammit.

Social Chair: Dude, no, you don’t. I once walked in on you giving a reverse blumpkin.

President: (furious, defensive) That was not! You didn’t…She was sitting on the toilet, yes. Her pants were down, of course. The toilet didn’t have a lid, just the seat. Yes I was going down on her but she wasn’t…she wasn’t taking a Goddamn shit!

Social Chair: I don’t know man, it smelled pretty bad in there.

President: It’s a fraternity house bathroom!

Social Chair: Then explain the grunting.

President: I don’t know, she makes weird sex noises or something.

Social Chair: Yeah, or she makes normal pooping noises.

Vice President: This isn’t even worth arguing over. The chapter passed a resolution months ago that you were, in fact, giving a reverse blumpkin. It’s been decided, you garbage pervert.

President: FUCK YOU GUYS! (*collects self*) But fine, yes. We need to be honest here. I was trying to bang out the one attractive Nu Chi and in doing so promised our top pref and a whole lot of formal dates. But that’s it. And I never texted about it or emailed or anything. There’s no evidence. No witnesses. It’s totally deniable.

Social Chair: Unlike your reverse blumpkin, which has many witnesses, and enough photographic evidence to keep your future salary in the lower middle class tax bracket until you die in a dilapidated nursing home. Unless you meet my demands.

President: Which are what?

Social Chair: Ah hell, I don’t know. Haven’t really thought it out yet. For now let’s just say the can of dip in your pocket and your car keys, because my car is in a sweet spot, and I don’t feel like losing it.

(*President reaches in pocket, pulls out keys and can of dip, angrily throws them at Social Chair*)

Vice President: First off, I just want to say that I had all of your penises on my mind when I did what I did.

President: You mean when you hooked up with Phi Sig’s Greek Week liaison?

Vice President: I mean, yeah, but in a brotherly way.

Social Chair: Oh, well that’s fine.

Vice President: Totally.

Treasurer: Thanks bro.

Vice President: No problem.

President: Yeah, well, hooking up is fine. That’s not my concern. It’s what you promised her during your pillow talk afterwards.

Vice President: I didn’t promise anything.

President: That’s not my understanding.

Vice President: Well not during pillow talk. We didn’t have any, I mean, not aside from, “Well, you should probably hit the trail, I’ve got paperwork to attend to,” or something. I mean, I don’t even think I even implied anything. We had minimal eye contact.

President: I have an email from their president that says you promised parties with top shelf liquor, pledge rides all semester, and even some fucking blow on one occasion.

Vice President: Ohhh yeah. That was when I was texting her to get her to come over.

President: Fucking shit man. They’re furious.

Vice President: About not getting the coke, huh? Buncha addicts. Listen, if it’s any consolation, all of my promises were completely empty.

Vice President: Listen, it’s simple. We’ll bust out the slip’n’slide tomorrow, I’ll invite her over. After she leaves her phone on the porch before she takes a slide I’ll have a pledge take it and delete the texts. Evidence gone and we can totally deny everything.

President: Sometimes I wonder why in the name of God you’re on E-board, and then you say something like that, and remind me why: you’re an evil genius, though it’s skewed heavily towards evil.

Vice President: Two wrongs can absolutely make a right. I’m just a guy who understands that.

President: Sadly, our most egregious offense isn’t as fixable. (*To Treasurer, Social Chair*) Do you two want to explain how in the hell you thought it was a good idea to throw a fiesta in our front yard, with everyone dressed in ponchos and sombreros, with a kiddie pool full of margaritas, when Gamma Kappa came over to court?

Social Chair: I don’t understand what part of that isn’t a good idea. That was a blast.

President: What did it even have to do with that sorority?!?

Treasurer: Their symbol is a cactus.

President: It’s a green trident, actually. And since they were courting us, IFC and PanHel thinks they thought up and organized the “racist rager” on our front lawn.

Social Chair: Sounds like we’re off the hook.

Treasurer: Yeah what exactly is the problem here?

President: Nothing, just that their president has been sending me violently graphic text messages all week as they appeal their social probation. If they win that appeal it’s on us.

(*President’s phone buzzes*)

President: Oh here’s a text from her now, let’s see what it says. (*Pulls out phone, reads*) “Listen you dickless sack of AIDS chimpanzee jizz…”

Social Chair: She’s got a mouth on her…

Vice President: (turned on) Oh God, yeah she does.

President: (continuing) “…as soon as we beat this social probation bullshit I’m going to make sure your house burns. Every one of you shaft clutchers is going down, and you’ll have to find a new shithole to munch blumpkin in…” (*stops reading*) So I guess that’s getting around, thanks assholes. (*continues*) “I will destroy you. Your tears will flow. Fuck you.”

Treasurer: I’m not sure about tears but something is definitely flowing.

Social Chair: Heavily.

President: So we have to deal with that too.

Vice President: God I’m in love. She’s gonna kill you, I’m going to take your office, and she and I will make terrifying love. It’s fate.

Social Chair: Can’t we just drop out of Greek Week and avoid this crap altogether?

President: No. Without those philanthropy hours we have roughly the community impact of a semi-active terrorist cell.

Rob Fox (né Bacon) is Director of Video Content and a Senior Writer for Total Frat Move, Rowdy Gentleman, and Post Grad Problems. He is a graduate, without honors, from the University of Missouri. Rob is originally from St. Louis, and currently lives in Austin, Texas. He still has not admitted to his family what he does for a living, and is prone to having wet nightmares ever since losing his virginity in a haunted house. Email: rob@grandex.co

You guys need to get the thumbs up button back at the bottom. Don’t know why you moved it to the top. How am I supposed to know if I like a column before I’ve even read it? I’m just a little too lazy to scroll back up to the top.